Not Wearing Pantyhose
by BatmansBabe
Summary: Stephanie has quit her job, and she’s ready for a real job. When the button factory, CluckinaBucket, and the many other “suitable” places her mother would approve of don’t work out, Stephanie pulls out the big guns. The Rangeman guns.
1. Pantyhose and Charity Cases

Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to say Janet Evanovich is just a brilliant pseudonym, unfortunately I do not own her works. Or Ranger.

Author: BatmansBabe

Summary: Stephanie has quit her job, and she's ready for a real job. When the button factory, Cluck-in-a-Bucket, and the many other "suitable" places her mother would approve of don't work out, Stephanie pulls out the big guns. The Rangeman guns.

Chapter 1-Pantyhose and Charity Cases

I stared at the desk, in all its' enormity. It was wide and expansive, with a large computer system she noticed had games on it. The phone was relatively close to where I sat, and from my spot I could see over the desk, out into the lobby from whence I had come that morning, with Tank's supervision.

The phone rang next to me, and with a soft sigh of contentment, I spun in the soft chair, twisting slightly to the left.

"Rangeman offices, Stephanie speaking."

"Shit. I thought Lula was kidding."

I winced at the familiar voice, and, feeling particularly mature, stuck my tongue out at the phone and crossed my eyes in a burg lady-like way. "Rangeman offices. Can I help you sir?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I can't kid sir. I have a job, sir."

"Stephanie, cut it out."

"I'm trying to be a professional here, and you're ruining the image."

"Professional?"

"Of the secretarial sort. I'm wearing a suit and pumps."

"Panty hose?"

"Are you kidding _me_? I haven't worn panty hose in years except when I'm conning little old ladies. They're icky. As the only woman in this office, I've taken the liberty of demanding there be no panty hose in the dress code. I have no complaints as of yet, but let me make sure Tank's okay with it before I put it in the rule book."

"So let me get this straight."

"Go on."

"You're sitting behind a Rangeman desk in a short yet sophisticated skirt and pumps and there are no other women present in the building."

I decided to leave Ella Guzman out of the woman category for the sake of it. "It seems you're straightened out."

"Ranger's there?"

"He owns the place."

"And he's seen you. Without the panty hose?"

"He's seen more than that on occasion."

It was silent, and I did some more cringing, trying to gage his reaction over the phone line, knowing it was a hopeless cause.

"What are you implying?"

"What are you inferring I'm implying?"

"Stephanie."

"I'm merely implying that I've done distraction jobs for Rangeman before, and that he's seen more than a little naked ankle before."

Again, he was silent, and I knew he was wondering if it was just the distraction. Or, the distraction for the job. I knew he suspected, there would always be that wondering…did something happen between Ranger and I? I wasn't planning on giving him a straight answer. As I stared at the screen of my computer, the background blank as of yet, I saw the flash of a diamond earring, before creamy mocha skin came into view where the lobby doors were supposed to be.

"Stephanie."

"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to cut this conversation short, officer. I have work to do. I'll see what I can do about that situation."

"Stephanie."

"Goodbye. Have a nice day."

I set the phone down, interlaced my hands on the sideboard above me, and looked up.

"Morelli?"

"Wondering if I was wearing panty hose."

He nodded wisely. "Are you?"

"No." He raised his eyebrows at that. "Oh, what, so you're big Mr. Professional, my employees are to be dressed in their Sunday best, panty hose and all?" He just crooked his lips upward. "Well, I'm sorry, but I've taken the liberty to leave panty hose out of the uniform." He said nothing, just kept smiling. "So…I'm wondering what you expect me to do all day here. Tank didn't explain anything beyond a few grunts and pointing and 'sit there, behind the desk, there are games.' I didn't think that was all that was in the job description."

"I'm advancing your prospects while keeping you safe and getting you information on yet another crazy out to get you. You sit and look over paperwork and research and look at spreads and type in numbers."

"Big numbers?"

"Mostly."

"So…how much of this is actually vital to the running of Rangeman?"

He looked at me, the grin on his face widening. "You don't expect me to answer that, do you?"

"So this is a charity case."

Ranger chuckled. "Babe, you are a charity case."

I ignored the jab. "So…show me what mad skills I'm going to learn behind this desk, Professor Higgins."

He came around the other side, pulled my rolling chair back and to the side, and wheeled another chair up next to mine. He clicked an icon on the screen as he sat, and as he waited for it to open, he set a hand on my thigh, his palm skimming across it.

I swatted it away, and the grin widened. "Just checking."


	2. Dipping your quill in the company ink

Disclaimer: Don't own it. I mean, except for the plot, but even that came from Janet's spoilers. Sigh.

Chapter 2- Dipping the quill in the company ink (or having the company quill dipped in your ink) and other misadventures

I sighed as I took the step out of the elevator, and saw Joe sitting in front of my door. His hair, as usual, needed cutting, and his 5 o'clock shadow was well past 7.

"Morelli."

He stood, taking in the slightly mussed hair, and the skirt, zipper up my thigh instead of its normal place on my back.

"Shit, Steph, what am I doing here?"

"I don't—."

"Oh, come on. You _know_ what I'm talking about."

"No. Sorry. Failing to fill in the blanks."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

I stood stock still, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up in anger, bristling.

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Stephanie, cut the crap. Are you sleeping with Ranger?"

I opened and closed my mouth several times, then, in a haze of rage, I brushed past him, pulling a key out to unlock the door. My voice shook as I spoke. "You have **_NO_** right to accuse me of—."

"What? Sleeping with the boss?"

"Of sleeping with anyone!" I turned. "What the hell gave you the idea that I was sleeping with him?"

"The sex hair's a major clue in."

Flustered, I swung my door open and shoved myself in, throwing off my shoes at the door, unbuttoning the first two buttons of my blouse. "I got my hair caught in some buttons."

"Whose buttons?"

"Well…Rangers. He leaned over behind me to show me something and… why am I explaining this to you?"

He followed me into my apartment, watching me as I pulled my hair from it's haphazard bun—Ranger's doing, not that Morelli needed to know that—and dropped a raisin in Rex's cage.

"I'm trying to find one situation where this could be construed as understandable."

"What? Getting my hair stuck in buttons?"

"You! Working for him! For Ranger, who stares at you like a kid staring at his brand new bike! I'm not an idiot, I see the way he looks at you; and I see the way you look at him!"

"The way **_I _**look at**_ him_**? What are you—?"

"Steph, you're not exactly secretive about the way you look when you're unclothing people with your eyes. You've obviously, at some point, slept with him before now. Whether or not I was in the picture when it happened is debatable, but…"

"When are YOU ever really _in _the picture?"

"WHAT?"

"Oh, don't you get defensive on me. You know damn well you've never really helped me out. You've never once supported my decisions, in anything, especially not my job. You want to turn me into my sister, the amazing cooking, baby-popping housewife. That's not me, he knows that! You obviously don't. You've never been there."

"And he has?"

"Yes! Yes, he's always been there for me. From day one, he's helped me out. Granted, it's not like he expects me to be this amazing bad ass bounty hunter from hell; but he knows he can't change my decision and so he goes with it."

"From day one."

I snapped my fingers. "The _moment_ we met. He taught me the basics, helped me find you, trained me up as best he could. Got me out of sticky situations."

"Like?"

Before thinking of the consequences, I jumped the bandwagon. "Like being naked and chained to a shower curtain rod and not wanting to call the fucking Marines."

It was then that the silence really permeated the room, and I understood about real silence. This was the worst kind.

"You're telling me, that even back then you two were…"

"We weren't _doing_ anything. He unlocked me a gave me a towel."

"So the sex started…"

"Oh, all the cards are out on the table now, aren't they? You want to talk about dipping the quill in the company ink, let's talk about Gilman."

"What does Terry have to do with this?"

"_Everything._ You get so defensive about my working relationship with a man I consider a really close friend, a man who'd do anything for me, a man I just so happen to have had sex with. What about YOU?"

"A man you've had sex with? So you finally admit it."

"Oh, please, **_so_** not the point."

"No, it is the point! Stephanie, we can't DO this! We're supposed to be civilized adults, with steady jobs and decent relationships! I'm 33 and all I have to show for it is a woman I occasionally sleep with and a job in vice."

"You can't do this? This whole thing about getting married? Look at us! We aren't even together and we're fighting! People don't _do_ this! Not normal, civilized people with stable jobs and decent relationships!"

I turned away from him, facing the kitchen counter and hoping against hope I would hear the door in the hallway shut softly.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…" I turned back to him, knowing this had to be a face-to-face thing. "We can't do this. We need stability. _You_ are anything but stability. Me and you…we don't do stability. And that's something we both need. Something we can't give each other."

He was silent for a beat. "So this is it?"

"This is it, Joe. It's not fair to either of us to stay like this."

He closed his eyes briefly, and I could tell he was concentrating solely on breathing. Then, just as quickly, he opened them again, and gave me a long look.

"I can't stop loving you."

"Honestly? I'll probably always love you, Joe. But it just isn't enough."

He gave a curt nod, and I stepped forward to squeeze his hand. "You're a great guy, Morelli. Let someone find out."

He stared into my eyes, and I realized it was the first time in all the years I'd known him that I'd seen tears there. "Be careful, Cupcake. I don't want you to get hurt."

I smiled, and nodded. "I'll be careful."

Joe gave a final soft smile, and turned to go. I followed him out, leaning against the doorjamb as he collected his coat and made his way out.

"Hey," I said, as he made his way out my door. His eyes turned up to mine. "Maybe we can go for pizza some times. Try out the friends thing."

He bit his lip. "We could try."

"It'll be a new thing. No dragging you back to the apartment afterwards for anything but a Rangers game."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Don't be a stranger."

He shook his head, a smirk on his face. "I couldn't be a stranger if I tried, Steph. I'll be getting calls about exploding cars years from now."

I wrinkled my nose at him. "Are you insinuating something?"

"I'm insinuating that you periodically blow up cars and get yourself into trouble, and that I'll always be in it. It's inevitable. A weird case of constant kismet."

"Odd, that."

"Yeah."

We watched each other for a while, and I took his face in, the curve of his jaw, the knife scar, the amazing brown eyes I loved so much. I knew this would be the last time I could do this, unguarded, and I knew soon enough, he'd have another woman to take in his face, memorize every muscle on his body. I hoped she'd treat him well.


	3. Oddball

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Of course, since I'm writing fanfic, that should be obvious, but…you know.

AN: To those of you who are reading The Come and Get It Dress, I'd like to, one, take a moment to thank you, and two, tell you that this is something of a prequel to it. And I do have another chapter of TCAGID, so that will be up soon. Hopefully.

Chapter 3- Oddball

As I settled into the warmth of my shower, I continued to mull over the last two weeks. Tank had moved me up to the fourth floor offices the moment I'd gone into work for my second day, put me in a cubicle with enough technology inside to communicate with Mars, and a drawer filled with the essentials: coffee creamer; sugar; a standard RangeMan cell; a dangling keychain with a keypad that had a security button for my brand new black Mercedes, a security button for the gates at the Haywood offices, and a button that looked ominously like the one on Rangers, used to get into his apartment; and a Glock, loaded and ready for action. Which I was to carry, concealed or no, under no uncertain terms, at all times. Or I was fired.

Security men,I thought scornfully, the voice inmy head laden with animosity.

Like I'd remember a _gun._

To add to that, Ranger was being decidedly weird. He'd been flirty and sexy and all innuendo the day I started working at RangeMan, but the next day, when I'd come in and Tank had escorted me to the fourth floor, he'd been…mercenary Ranger, all monosyllables and grunting. Which I wouldn't have minded so much, except the grunting waws leading to nowhere. A brick wall, maybe. Or a dead end. But not anyplace pleasurable, in any sense of the word.

And for two weeks he'd been like that. It felt like we were back at square one, like I was sitting down at a table and pointing to a piece-of-shit Nova and he'd never seen me naked or covered in garbage before.

And now that I had finished mourning Joe, it really, really sucked.

Usually, Ranger and I were in a game of tug of war, where Ranger would pull, and I would pull, and halfway through my pull Ranger would drop the rope and disappear before I'd righted myself.

Right now, Ranger wasn't even near the rope, and I didn't know what to do about it.

Sitting in the perfectly heated, soft leather interior of the command center that was my car, I dialed Joe to see if we were still on for the game tonight. It was our first stab at the friends thing, and Joe was bringing Bob to chaperone.

Like that ever did us much good. Bob was probably a porn fanatic because of us.

He picked up on the third ring just as I slammed on my brakes, nearly tail-ending the ice cream truck in front of me. I let a string of curse words spew from my mouth, made a hand gesture that came entirely from my Italian heritage, then pressed on the gas the moment the ice cream truck moved forward, swerving into my right lane and missing the bumper of the car behind me by about half an inch. It was rush hour in Trenton.

"Stephanie?"

"Hey Joe. Just making sure we were still on for tonight."

"I'm bringing Pino's."

"I'm out of beer."

"I'm bringing that too."

"I have no dessert."

"Add that to the list of things I'm bringing."

"No napkins."

"I'll ask for extra."

"And, you know, come to think of it, I haven't been shopping in a while and I could use—."

"Goodbye Stephanie."

"All I need is a little—."

"See you at six."

"All you'd have to do is—."

I was met by dial tone. I grinned a bit, switched lanes to pass a grandpa in a Caddy, and turned up Metallica for the drive home.

Halfway through the game, with the Rangers miles ahead of the Sharks, I popped open my third beer, brushing pizza crust off my chest.

"No way. The Rock would win, no doubt. The Rock over the Flash? There's no competition."

Okay, so I was buzzed. What could I say? I'm not a drinker. Joe, of course, was perfectly sober. He'd been practicing abstinence. Which was why there were two beers left.

"Okay. How about me over Ranger?" He asked, a smirk on his lips.

My eyes bulged out,and beer sloshed out of the bottle as my stomach shook in silent mirth. When I'd sobered…well, calmed down enough to speak, I chuckled. "No offense, but Ranger is Batman. You can't win against Batman."

"You're saying I'd have no chance?"

"One very tiny, itty bitty, teeny weeny, extremely small chance," I said elongating the "e" in extremely for effect. And because I was inebriated.

"And what chance would that be?"

"Duh. If you hit him with a couple horse tranquilizers."

"This hero complex isn't safe. Does he know you call him Batman?"

"Sure he knows. About the Batmobile and the Batcave…"

Joe frowned a bit, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. If I hadn't been drunk off my ass, I would have realized it was probably a mix of jealousy and concern (for my safety or my heart, no one would ever know).

"So, if we got into a fight right now…"

"You'd be dead. Especially now." I stumbled across all the 's's. "He's in monosyllabic mercenary mode now." I giggled. "Say that ten times fast."

Joe seemed even more concerned. He was quiet, his gaze on the TV, his eyes unseeing. He was broken from his reverie by my voice. "What about me and Wonder Woman?"

"Cupcake," he began, "you'd probably trip over your own feet and crush her. Or a car would explode nearby and she'd catch fire."

I continued to pair superheroes and humans alike, speculating with my intoxicated mind who would win each match, not noticing Joe's sudden withdrawal from the proceedings.

At eleven, Joe took his leave, casually suggesting that Bob sleep over. This momentarily cleared my mind.

"If you leave Bob here tonight it is very likely that tomorrow morning, Joyce will have me arrested and you'll have to bail me out and save Bob from being raped," I told Morelli, my eyes half closed.

"Is that a threat?" Morelli asked, and I could feel the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Promise," I stated. "Much more serious than a threat."

Joe smiled, moving toward the door, Bob at his heels. "Night Steph."

I woke with a mantra in my head that sounded suspiciously like an Offspring song. And as the morning went on, the theme of the song continued.

In front of the coffee pot, I told Rex, "I'm never going to drink again."

Ordering The Cure at McDonalds, I told the man in speaker box, "I'll probably never drink again," and visiting Lula to steal a doughnut, I told Connie, "I may not ever drink again."

But the time I made it to the office my prospects her much brighter. I sang the last part silently, making my way to my cubicle to start the day.

_At least not 'til next weekend_

I was startled when Tank called my name, and my head shot up. "Yeah?"

"You've got a call on line 3. Mary something."

I nodded my thanks, and turned to the phone. Ugh.

I pressed line 3, pressed "speak" and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Steph."

Her voice carried throughout the room, and the men looked curiously up at me.

"Crap," I intoned softly. "Yeah, hey, it's me." Trying to play it cool, I began to press buttons all along the keyboard. I could see the men laughing silently in their respective places.

"Yeah, so I came to visit you last night, and guess what?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I searched frantically for a button to fix it. "Um…what?"

Panic spread when her voice continued to issue from the ceiling.

"Joe's truck was there."

I continued to press buttons. "Oh, Yeah. We were watching the game. With Bob. You know, Pino's, dessert, Ranger's kick Shark ass."

"Right. You told me. And that's what I thought when I saw his truck, so I figured I'd wait for the game to finish and come visit."

"Oh," I said, pressing buttons at random now, hoping something would work. Damn buttons.

"Now here's the funny part."

"There's a funny part?" I whined hopelessly.

"The game ended at 9:30." Mary paused. "I was out there until almost 11."

Damn. If she'd stayed a few minutes longer…

"We had dessert. It was one of those cheesecakes that you have to leave out to thaw, and Joe wouldn't leave until he got some."

"Right. Until he got some."

Oh god. I was never going to live this down with the Merry Men.

"So, how was it?"

"The cheesecake?" By now it was all I could do not to pound my fist against the board in the hope that something would hit the right button.

"Yeah. Sure. The _cheesecake_."

"Well, it was…good."

"Good as in not bad, or good as in great? Because I always thought, with all the fights you two had—."

"Mary Lou, you're…" I tried desperately.

"—the makeup sex had to be great for you to stay with him."

"…on speaker phone," I finished softly.

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and Ranger's voice filled my cubicle. "You just press 'speak' again," he said.

I did so with haste, trying to ignore his presence long enough for Mary Lou to finish her conversation.

Unfortunately, today Ranger wasn't monosyllabic man. Today he had the rope in his hands, and he was going to pull it until he ran out of rope and all that was left was me. I could feel it, even though I refused to turn and look at him. Gulp.

"Oh god. They all heard? All the Merry Men?"

"Yep."

"And…Ranger."

"Yes," I said slowly.

"Shoot."

"That sums it up."

We were silent, and Bulgari continued to assault my nose.

"Okay, so…I gotta know. Are you and Joe back together or what?"

"Mary, I already told you that."

"Well, did you have sex with him or not?"

"No. I didn't."

"For real? Well, when did he leave then?"

"Eleven."

"You were really just eating cheesecake."

"Sorry."

"You're no fun anymore. You need to sleep with Ranger or something."

"Mary."

"He's right there, right?"

"Mmhm."

"Right. I'm gonna go before I find another way to completely embarrass myself around the hottest man in existence. Anyway, the kids are having a disagreement with the restroom facitlites."

Which meant that they were fighting over who got to drink toilet water first. Ah, the joys of children.

I turned my attention slowly to Ranger, who looked at me with some emotion I couldn't decipher. Probably there was a lot of mirth in there.

"Busy night?"

I shrugged. "Just the Ranger's game."

"This is the part where I tell you I'm seeing an unhealthy pattern."

"What?" I asked. "No pattern. The pattern is done. Over with. Finito."

"So Morelli slept on the couch?"

I crossed my arms indignantly over my chest. "No. He ate his strawberry cheesecake, took Bob and left at eleven. So there. Pattern over Batman."

Ranger's eyes darkened. "Don't play with fire, Babe. I let you talk to me like that in front of the men they'll think they can do the same."

"Yeah, well, you were assuming thing. And you know what they say about assuming things."

"What's that?"

I fumbled. "Well. That you…shouldn't." I stuck out my lip in a pout, and Ranger gave me a feral grin, moving closer to me. Of course, I was standing now, so we were inches about at about a stride and a half.

"So, you and Morelli are really done this time?"

"Yeah," I said on a breathy sigh.

His smile widened. "Good."

He tucked a curl behind my ear, kissed me softly on the lips, then turned and began to walk away.

_Bam._ Stephanie falls on her ass and get whipped by the rope.

"What good? Ranger! What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, he turned back around, and strode to my cubicle, leaning over the side of it. "Ella's making lunch upstairs. Use your keypad."

"Um…"

He gave me another one of those odd looks again, tugged on a stray curl, and then he was gone.

AN: I have to give credit where it's due, so number one, the "assuming bit" was taken from my memory of a Gilmore Girls…if I remember it well enough, the episode is Rory's Two Birthdays, or something like that. And the Offspring song is "Worst Hangover Ever" and if you've heard the song, you'll understand exactly why I used it. If you haven't heard it…find it and listen to it, because it's the hilarious and slightly painful truth. Hehe. Hope you likey.


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